


Kissed

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: There is a number of small things [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, Hogwarts, M/M, POV Second Person, Sexuality, The Dark Lord - Freeform, Unrequited Love, War, voldemort - Freeform, wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you were fourteen you were on top of the world. Your life had not yet begun to dissolve around you, and just about anything you wanted was yours for the taking. You had friends that respected you and worshiped you, and you had the one person at your side that mattered to you the most.  By the time you were sixteen everything you had known was gone and you were merely a ghost of your former self, but for a while there, you really had it all…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unkissed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331035) by [unkissed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkissed/pseuds/unkissed). 



> Draco's side of the events from 'Unkissed' inspired and made possible by my muse, friend, cohort, and writing partner, Unkissed.
> 
> For Theodore, you know who you are.

When you were fourteen you were on top of the world. Your life had not yet begun to dissolve around you, and just about anything you wanted was yours for the taking. You had friends that respected you and worshiped you, and you had the one person at your side that mattered to you the most.  By the time you were sixteen everything you had known was gone and you were merely a ghost of your former self, but for a while there, you really had it all…

 

The first time you _really_ decided that you did not loath Theodore Nott, you were about eight years old. You had been forced into interaction practically on a weekly basis by that point and although you hated the way he made you feel horribly inadequate in practically everything you did together, you could not help but quietly appreciate how nothing about you seemed to alter his perception of you. It didn’t matter that you were Draco Malfoy. It didn’t matter that you had all the best toys and anything you wanted at your fingertips. You revered the lack of special attention, even at eight years old.

 

As the years passed, your bond strengthened and solidified and it got to the point that even when Theodore was at home, you could feel his presence all around you. You didn’t know it yet, but that feeling would _never_ leave you and there would come a time when all you had were those feelings and memories and you would cling to them like they were your life.

 

Running through the gloomy corridors of Malfoy manor or playing hide and seek in the gardens; these were the memories that would both pacify you and haunt you for years to come.

 

When you were ten years old, your Grandfather Abraxas passed away. He was elderly and you had been prepared for it, but it still didn’t really make it much easier.

 

You may have worshiped the ground that your father walked on, but it was Abraxas who taught you about life and the consequences of your actions.

 

You had spent many days with him in his chambers that he had long-since been confined to, lying at the foot of his bed while he regaled you with stories of his youth and lectured you on the importance of family and taking your place in this world. Unlike you father, your grandfather did not inspire fear in you. He was old and set in his ways, but you always looked forward to your time together and to listening to his tales.

 

A couple of times you dragged Theodore along with you to the other side of the manor; partially because you knew he would hate it, but also because by that point you wanted him around.

 

All the time.

 

Abraxas would stare at the two of you for a long time and say nothing, his watery gaze moving between you curiously. Sometimes he would talk about someone from his past named Tom; a friend that he cared for a great deal, presumably. You would never know that even at ten years old, your grandfather recognized things in you that would take you _years_ to come to terms with. You would eventually come face to face with your grandfather’s _‘Tom’_ and you would not be nearly as fond of the experience as he seemed to have been.

 

Theodore sat with you in the front row at the funeral, his hand clasped firmly around yours like a steady anchor and hidden beneath the mourning robes you wore. Your shoulders were pressed up against each other and the two of you looked just like a study in shadows and light; in every way. After the burial he sat next to you on the dock and provided you with an endless supply of smooth rocks to skip across the water because he knew better than anyone what it felt like to lose someone. Death was not an easy thing for him to deal with but he was here with you because much like you felt about him, there was nowhere else he would rather be than beside you. There were not many words exchanged between you that day, but it didn’t matter. He was there when you needed him and it was enough to forever alter the way you thought about him. You secretly hoped that he would always be there when you needed him and you couldn’t possibly imagine a time when he wouldn’t be.

 

School had always just been an extension of your time together—From the moment you both got sorted into Slytherin and became part of a larger group of people, some of whom you would eventually consider your friends. The years seemed to breeze by and it didn’t matter to you what time of the year it was, because every moment of your life was brilliant.

 

You were fourteen when things started changing. Theodore had always been this presence in your life, but it was different now. You couldn’t help but notice the unspoken war taking place between him and Pansy, or the way they both seemed to race to take the place at your side. It took a snide comment from Daphne one afternoon in the common room before you _really_ figured out what was happening, and by that point you were far too amused to intervene.

 

Theodore would race to sit next to you in class and Pansy would tap her foot and glare. Pansy would clamp onto your arm in the halls and Theodore would trail patiently behind, biding his time. It became this great game that you enjoyed quite a bit, until Theodore changed the rules. Suddenly he was touching you when he talked to you or leaning close enough to you that you felt his warm breath on your cheek. You quickly decided that you didn’t mind this kind of attention and a part of you even longed for it. Every day you would hold your breath as the race ensued and you would silently wish for Theodore to win. His shoulder beside yours in the hall made your insides quietly sing and every time he touched you, however innocuous, you felt his warmth, even through layers of clothing.

 

As the weeks wore on the game clearly became one-sided. Theodore bested Pansy in every way and although you would never say anything, you were infinitely pleased. It was easy to lose yourself in Theodore’s presence; you’d been doing it for seven years already. What you didn’t yet know is that no one else in Slytherin house, or the entire world for that matter, could ever matter to you like he did.  

 

It was second nature to reciprocate his advances because you didn’t know any better and had no one to tell you it was wrong.

 

When he leaned close to whisper in your ear, you would rarely hear a word of it because you were occupied by the color of his eyes or the way his Slytherin tie hung around his neck.

 

When he insisted on studying late in the common room and you just wanted to sleep, it was almost like second nature to rest your head there on his shoulder and you never once thought better of it because this was Theodore; he was as much a part of your life as you were.

 

You didn’t think twice about touching his hair on the great lawn and you never noticed how he twitched imperceptibly every time your fingertips grazed his scalp or the way Pansy seethed and Daphne smirked. It didn’t matter to you.

 

It was the Yule ball when things got _really_ interesting. Pansy was clinging to you like you were a moth caught in her spider’s web and somehow Theodore still managed to hold your attention. The entire evening you watched him; the way his fingers curled around Daphne’s lithe waist and the understated elegance with which he danced. It was right in the middle of Les Patineurs Valse when you realized that the way you felt about Theodore Nott was different than the way you felt about anyone else. Never before had anyone managed to hold your attention or twist the unspoken string of desire inside of you like he could. The quiet revelation was startling and it terrified you. Your ears were practically on fire the entire time and when you followed him into that black carriage to drink you welcomed the fog that only a nicked bottle of Ogden’s finest could provide.

 

By the time summer holidays came around you were practically driving your father insane with questions regarding Mr. Nott and when he would be paying a visit. Days inside the manor with no one to share them with were always dreadful. You found yourself wandering unused parts of the old house and digging up mischief wherever you could find it. You used visits with Abraxas’ portrait as an excuse to skip all sorts of dull lessons and every thought inside your head was centered on Theodore Nott and when you might see him again.

 

Never before had you been so upset about summer break from school, now it seemed like torture—Ironic, considering the fact that you had no _real_ idea what torture felt like…Yet.

 

What you couldn’t know is that your mother was far more observant than you gave her credit for. She rarely missed a thing that went on in her house, least of all the way you were clearly pining over Theodore Nott or the way you used to race up the stairs and down the hall to talk to your grandfather’s portrait after every visit with the weedy little boy who seemed stuck to your side like glue. She couldn’t deny the warning signs of your blossoming affection for the Nott boy and it terrified her what your father would do if he found out. While your days were spent frolicking with Theodore or chatting with Abraxas, hers were spent wrought worry as she contemplated doing what was right for the family, and what was right for her son.

 

It was your grandfather who put the ideas in your head about simply paying Theodore a visit instead of waiting for him to come. As you got older you found yourself seeking his advice more than that of your own parents because you were as scared of them finding out your secrets as you were to admit them to yourself.

 

Abraxas never sugarcoated anything and would tell you to go to Theodore in one breath, and then quietly explain that a Malfoy cannot escape his fate, no matter how strong the pull, in the next breath. These contradictions became your religion and would end up ruling your heart and mind for a long time to come.

 

So you did. Sometimes you would owl to announce your arrival and other times you would just show up and catch him looking vaguely conspicuous, like you’d interrupted something.

 

When your mother mentioned something about your father and Mr. Nott leaving town for the weekend, it was almost too good to be true and you immediately went to him and informed him that you were sleeping over. It wasn’t like you had an agenda; you simply wanted to be near him without anyone else around to judge you. 

Being in his presence made your heart race and your insides squirm and by the time you curled up next to him in his bed that fateful night, you knew that you loved him; this impossible boy.

 

You were fifteen and would soon be forced to do unspeakable things for the sake of your family, but for right now, for this sliver of suspended time, you were just Draco and Theodore and it could have been enough.

 

When you returned to the manor your father was waiting for you. He sat you down and lectured you on the duty of pureblood males and the role that you must play. He warned you of the consequences should you choose to defy your duty to your family and talked cryptically about coming trials and allegiances that you did not yet understand. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as he coldly informed you that you were to forget about your childish affections for the Nott boy because that is not how he raised you to be. You were torn between hero-worship and fear and in the end you simply bowed your head and acceded.

 

The weeks that followed were as close to hell as you’d come in that point of you life. Your mother nearly burst into tears whenever you were around her and she couldn’t even look at you. You assumed that she was disappointed in you because your father had told her all about his talk with you and that she was overcome with grief over having a damaged son. What you didn’t know is that her tears were guilt and that she would never forgive herself for what she had done.

 

 

This is the one secret that she will take with her to the grave because she will never be able to come to terms with the repercussions of her actions.

 

When Theodore turns up at the manor you are instantly elated, even if the entire time your insides are a tumultuous war. Your mother ushers you both outside, not because she has a vested interest in your star gazing so much as she cannot stand to watch you war within yourself when you are around him.

 

Every moment of that day is pure hell for you. Every time Theodore smiles tentatively at you or chews on the corner of his bottom lip, your heart pounds and your father’s words scream in your head. Being close to him is torture because you love him and you are not sure that you can live the rest of your life like this. There are so many parts of you that want to disregard your father’s warnings but you are not nearly strong enough and so you lie there, crippled by fear and the weight of the inevitable.

 

For his part Theodore is doing everything in his power to break you clean in half. Whether it is intentional or not, you cant be certain; but you know that you both want him to stop touching your face, and to never stop, and you hate yourself inside. It is impossible to think or to breathe like this and when his fingers curl around the back of your neck your eyes snap open because you are not stupid; you know what is coming next and even your pathetic attempt to keep him away wont stop it.

 

It takes everything inside of you to remain unfazed by his kiss and you are glad you are lying down because you would certainly buckle beneath the weight.

 

You try and swallow around the lump in your throat and your heart feels like someone is slowly squeezing the life out of it in a fist. It kills you to know that you can never be like this with him and now more than ever you wish he could undo his actions and somehow unkiss you because you know that there is no going back from this.

 

 

There are two people in your life that you never want to see cry, and in two weeks you’ve seen them both do it.

 

When Theodore flees you and the blanket you want to cry as well, but you don’t yet know how. Your body curls into a fetal ball and you hold yourself and more than anything you wish you could take it back. If you were stronger you would get up and chase after him, but you remain where you are instead. It feels like your heart is shattering and you can’t breathe and by the time you find your way back upstairs to your room you are numb. You know that you’ve just pushed Theodore out of your life for good and while a large part of you will quietly mourn the loss for a long, long time, the rest of you is relieved because there is no possible way you could have lived your life with him in it and untouchable.

 

 

You don’t speak to him for the rest of summer holiday and it kills you every day.

 

By the time your fifth term of school starts you are visibly changed. No longer are you the easily amused boy with the flippant demeanor. You are older and somehow colder and you have given up trying to be who you _want_ to be in favor of who you should be. It is easy to fill the void left by Theodore with Pansy, even if her touch does nothing but make you want to grind your teeth. You hold her hand and kiss her because that is what you are supposed to do. It doesn’t matter to you that your own sexuality is glaring you in the face; you ignore all of the signs because you are too ashamed to face them and have no one to tell you that it is okay. On the contrary, you are repeatedly reminded that it is your duty as a Malfoy male to carry on the family line. You are not gay – Simply mistaken by the confusion of adolescence.

 

You do everything in your power to outwardly prove that you are normal because at the end of the day, you are still trying to prove it to yourself.

 

Little did you know that a rushed hand job in the loo on the Hogwarts express the following year would solidify what you already knew—It didn’t matter that it was Pansy. Girls were not what you wanted; period. _Theodore_ is what you wanted.

 

By the end of your fifth year you are almost relieved to be going home. It doesn’t matter that your father had just been arrested along with Theodore’s father. Nothing mattered to you anymore. Your world was black and white with no room for a differentiating color palette. By the time you are well and truly in the middle of your summer holiday you regret your earlier wish for it and want nothing more than to escape what you now call your life.

 

On your knees at the foot of The Dark Lord is not somewhere you could have ever imagined yourself, and as you gaze up at him you find it hard to believe that he ever could have resembled something that your grandfather would have spoken kindly of.

 

When you return to Hogwarts for your sixth year you don’t even feel like Draco Malfoy anymore and by the end of term you are fleeing the grounds much like Theodore will do very soon. Except when Theodore leaves, he takes your heart and soul with him and never comes back. It will be a long time before you can rise above the mistakes of your youth and _finally_ accept who you are as a person. When you meet Theodore again in the future you will finally be able to show him the parts of yourself that you were not strong enough to reveal at fourteen. You will kiss him like he deserved to be kissed all those years ago beneath the stars and there will never be a moment when you are not completely in love with him.  He will be by your side forever and always and even death will not be able to come between you.

 

You still have so very many obstacles to overcome before you get to that point and a war is coming. A war that may very well kill you and your entire family. But one day, one day it will all be worth it and you will never ever wish to be unkissed again.


End file.
